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"So this is going great for you, is what I'm hearing," Rose said.
"Oh yeah, spectacular," Shane groaned.
With a slight tug on her leash, Anya trotted over to him, finally done investigating the sign post that she had to thoroughly vet on every walk. Shane juggled leash, phone and his water bottle for a second before giving up and just jamming the water bottle into his back pocket.
"You could just talk to him about it. Sit him down and say 'hey my gorgeous Russian stud, I need you to calm the fuck down and let me do this before I suck your brains out via your dick'."
"Do you want to propose to him?" Shane asked flatly.
"Absolutely not. He's for looking, not for eating," Rose laughed. "I know you've got that covered."
Anya found something questionable on the side of the road at his distraction and that got Shane moving again. It was dusk and he'd prefer not to be walking in the pitch black. Their neighborhood was quiet, but sometimes people took that as an invitation to speed which always made him nervous, sidewalks or not.
"Yeah, that part is fine," Shane said mildly. Like he wasn't sore in a half-dozen places because they'd had the day off and Ilya had expressed his delight in that fact by testing Shane's physical limitations for the umpteenth time.
In fairness, Ilya was taking a pre-dinner nap because Shane might've instigated his fair share of that. Or more. It was December, they'd been hard at work for weeks and Shane needed to work off a lot of tension.
"Oh, only fine?" Rose made an annoyed noise. "I know you're trying to spare my very single feelings and I appreciate that, but don't lie to me, Hollander. You sound like you deep throated sandpaper."
"You can hear that?" His voice pitched up. Shit. That was horrifying.
"Little bit, babe. I'm sure you'll be fine by tomorrow. Drink tea."
"He has like fifty kinds of tea so that should be easy enough. Maybe I should just stick the ring in the bottom of a mug and let him fucking drink it."
"And when he inevitably chokes on it?"
"I'll romantically give him the Heimlich Maneuver," Shane grumbled.
"Seriously, Shane, why haven't you just talked to him about it?"
Which was the million dollar question. And the answer was so pathetic that Shane knew he was opening himself up to ridicule by telling her. Yet, it was Rose and her teasing had only ever been gentle. She had always giving him her softest side. Something he didn't realize until he finally hung out on set with her last summer and witnessed her ripping someone a new asshole without raising her voice, cursing, being rude, or getting out of a makeup chair. He'd taken some notes.
"I'm having fun," Shane confessed.
"Because it's a game?"
"Little bit, yeah," he said. "I'm taking it seriously. I really do want to ask him. I know he's serious too. Sometimes though, it's like we're a little too serious about each other now. I like when we play too. Does that make sense?"
"I think that's the most sensible thing you've said in three years. If you were any more serious about him, you'd have to give a yearly address about it to congress."
"Parliament," he corrected absently.
"Whatever. Point is, yes. Have fun with it. But then why are you complaining?"
"I can't do both?" he said, aware he was edging into a whine.
"Fine, fine," she laughed a little. "You can have both, I guess. How much time do you have to talk?"
"At least a half hour," Shane said, remembering the heavy exhaustion in Ilya's face. He needed that nap badly and not only from how they'd spent the day. The stress of caring so much all day, every day wore at him. It was something Shane adored about him and never wanted to stop, but maybe he had to find a way to build in more breaks for both of them. "Anya needs a long walk anyway."
"Good. I'll help you come up with a foolproof plan. I'm not sure who the fool is in this, you or him or both, but we'll do our best to make it watertight from both of you to cover our bases."
"You're the best," Shane said, immediately buoyed.
"Let's go back over everything you already tried and figure out what went wrong."
"Tape review."
"Exactly."
Attempt One
"And then we got home soaked and spent a half hour standing in front of the radiator," Ryan concluded. "So it wasn't exactly the anniversary dinner I'd been planning."
"Oh, you poor things," Dottie said around a laugh. "I hope you got a re-do."
"We managed," Ryan said reverently like that memory was too precious to share.
The sun was warm on Shane's face, the thick smell of barbecue in the air. Ilya's arm was around his shoulders and he had been drifting away from the conversation mentally for awhile. The little coaches' corner on Bood's deck had formed without him, but when he'd wandered by between conversations, it hadn't taken much effort for Ilya to snag him and draw him in.
No one had asked Shane anything or tried to draw him out once he settled at Ilya's side. He was allowed to be quiet here, amid the noise. There was a simple joy in getting to only exist. It wouldn't last forever. Someone would seek him out eventually, but that was all right. The temporariness of it was part of what made it pleasant.
"We got engaged on a day like this," Dottie was saying and the words trickled into Shane slowly. He made an effort not to stir, to stay lax and comfortable under Ilya's grip.
"A little cloudier," Wiebe said.
"Don't argue because you can," Dottie chided and Wiebe smiled at her, unrepentant. "You were so nervous that I knew something was up. As if I would have said no."
"I was nervous. It's a big question," Wiebe said. "But you said yes and here we are."
"How did you ask?" Ryan asked, picking up a rib as if it hardly mattered to him.
As if Shane wasn't now paying very close attention.
Ilya gave no sign of increased interest, but he'd already been listening intently because he loved Dottie in a simple devoted way.
"Oh, it wasn't inventive or anything," Wiebe said. "She'd moved to Santa Fe to be with me already, but I knew it would mean more to her if we did it closer to home. So I waited for the summer and I asked by the lake."
"He's being very humble," Dottie snorted. "He lit a bunch of candles, had flowers and music. The whole shebang. It was romantic. Very sweet. He cried."
"So did you." Wiebe took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.
Shane's hand twitched towards his pocket. He hadn't had any intent for it to be today. The party was for everyone and a little too crowded for it for his taste. But he had taken to carrying the ring around with him, moving it carefully from pocket to pocket every day, waiting for the right moment to make itself apparent. Would now be so bad? They were surrounded by friends and Anya was asleep at their feet.
Shane slid his fingers into his pocket, but before he could touch the metal and give it serious thought, Ilya went rigid against him. Then he was on his feet with a stern, "No!" pointing at Shane like he'd pulled a gun and took off running. Ryan fumbled with his plate, startled and Wiebe whipped his head around to look at Shane. Anya immediately got up, charmed by the game and ran in an excited brown blur after her master.
"Hollander?" someone asked in befuddlement.
"We're fine! He's just…Ilya!" Shane spat and without much additional thought, jumped to his feet and took off after them both.
Ilya wove through the crowd, and Shane took a much less graceful path, simply crashing through the space left in Ilya's wake. Stopping only for a half second to kiss the top of Amber's head, Ilya then nimbly avoided upsetting the entire sides table by a bare few inches as he continued his retreat.
"Get back here!" Shane called out. "I was kidding!"
"No, you were not!" Ilya yelled back.
Shane had to put hands on Joey to scoot them out of the way, "Sorry, excuse me."
Then he watched in horror as Ilya took the steps a few at a time, hitting the ground and moving across the yard with astonishing speed. That riled Shane beyond reason and before he could think about consequences, he planted his hands on the railing and jumped down to land in the grass, leaving the stairs to wiser men entirely.
"Get back here, you asshole!"
Anya got herself in front of Ilya and for a brief second, Shane's heart was in his throat as Ilya tripped trying not to step on her. He went down on his knees, but Ilya had once taken far harder hits and kept playing. Smashing into the grass, Ilya rolled with it, got to his feet and then he was gone, along with the dog.
Shane pelted after him, teeth gritted as he rounded the Boodram house. The front yard was nicely kept and sported some tall lilac bushes. Shane almost went straight past them, but he heard the tiny metallic 'ting' of Anya's tags clicking against her collar. He slowed and then laughed because he couldn't help himself. Ilya had tucked himself in behind the bushes, very evident now that Shane was looking for him, a stain of black in the greenery.
"You're ridiculous," Shane informed him, even as Ilya held out a hand to him. He took it and let himself be tugged in to the small space between house and plants. "I wasn't going to do anything."
"Liar," Ilya said smugly and kissed him. "I know you, Hollander. You cannot fool me."
"Is that a fact?" Shane asked. "I can catch you though."
"Today, maybe, because I let you."
"You hid behind a bush."
"I did," Ilya said without a hint of shame, nuzzling his nose against Shane's neck.
"The whole party thinks we're crazy now, I hope you're happy."
"Very. Will you tell them why?"
"No," Shane said immediately. "I'm not telling people my boyfriend runs away from me when I try to propose to him. That's embarrassing."
"Then you do not tell them that way. You tell them that I am trying to propose to you and you are being stubborn about it."
"I'm not," Shane said stubbornly.
Someone cleared their throat and Shane thumped his forehead against Ilya's chest with a groan.
"You guys good? I've been sent to make sure there's no broken bones," Hayes' voice filtered through the vegetation. "I can tell them that you decided to quit hockey for gardening if you want."
"Thank you," Ilya said with a smile in his voice. "We're coming back. Shane needed to stretch his legs. He was getting cranky."
"You're dead," Shane growled at him.
"Okay!" Hayes said cheerfully.
So they sheepishly (or at least Shane was sheepish, Ilya acted like he'd won a playoff game) returned the party.
"You good?" Hayden asked warily. "What was that about?"
"You know, just stupid shit," Shane muttered.
"I really do not know," Hayden frowned. "Are you guys fighting?"
"No. Just messing around."
They got home late and didn't bother talking about it. Ilya had won that round.
Post-Game Analysis
"So being spontaneous is out," Rose said.
"Yeah, clearly," Shane said. "And I gave up on putting it in my pocket. He started twitching every time I reached for it, it was giving me a complex about taking off my pants in front of him."
"Really?" she asked incredulously.
"No," he admitted.
"Did you even want to do it in front of so many people?"
Turning the corner, Shane waved at Mrs. Donahue, who sat out on her porch regardless of the weather every night. She waved back. Ilya had made a friend of her long before Shane had arrived on the scene.
Sometimes, Shane felt like he lived in a world that Ilya had crafted for him, made soft and welcoming to him before he even stepped foot into it. Of course, Ilya had done it for himself, long before he knew Shane was returning. If anything, Ilya didn't seem to realize he'd done it at all. Either way, Shane got to share it with him now. A niche in the Ottawa ecosystem that fit two.
Ilya liked people. He wanted to be out in the world and wave at neighbors, chat with the clerk at the grocery store, and go to parties. It would be nice to have a private proposal, something for just the two of them, but so much of their time together had been private. Secret. Hidden.
"Maybe a few people," Shane said. "People we really care about. Family. A few friends. That would be okay."
"That does sound nice. Okay. So how could you get some people you care about together so it feels natural and doesn't set him off?"
"Tried that already."
"When?"
"A month after the first one."
"That long?"
"I needed recovery time! And maybe to figure out what was setting him off. He ran away from me two more times and one of those I was only getting out my car keys."
"Oh my god. At least he looks good from behind if that's the only view you're getting."
Shane sighed gustily. "I like him from the front too."
"I know," she said sweetly. "Okay. Lay it on me."
Attempt Two
"Uncle Shane," Ruby said, hands on her hips. "We're not supposed to tell lies."
"It's not a lie," Shane said, but he already felt guilty about it. "I just-"
"It is a lie," Jade said and set her face like Hayden's when he was particularly annoyed. "Don't make things up."
"I just want to surprise Uncle Ilya. He'll be so happy that you two helped."
They wavered, glancing at each other and communicating very efficiently and maturely for two people garnished head-to-toe in plastic jewelry and sequins that only fifteen minutes ago nearly came to blows over a decapitated Barbie.
"But we don't have any flowers," Ruby said like this was a very reasonable objection.
"Uncle Ilya doesn't like flowers," Shane said.
"He does," Jade insisted. "He likes the ones Mama grows that are all bright yellow and have the long bits in the middle. The tiger flowers."
"Did he say that or do you just think he should?" Shane asked suspiciously.
They both stared at him and finally Ruby said exasperated, "Uncle Shane, he touches them every time he comes over, smiles at them, and always tells Mama how nice they look. That's how you know people like things."
No one in Shane's life had humbled him more than Ruby Pike. He wished he could take her with him to games and let her chirp at full grown men with her withering disdain.
"Okay, I will get him flowers another time," Shane said. "But for today, can you please just have a princess tea party and let me do this?"
"Do what?" Joey stuck their head around the door.
"Uncle Shane is being silly," Jade said like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "So we're being silly back."
"Got it," Joey said, thankfully asking no follow up questions. "Rozanov asked me to tell you that he's going with Jackie to help her pick something out for the gala. She's going to drop him back at your place when you're done, so he's leaving you the car."
Motherfucker.
"Thanks," Shane sighed. "Okay, girls. You're off the hook."
"Does that mean no princess party?" Jade asked, deflating a little.
"No, we can still do that." Giving into the inevitable, Shane reached for his designated crown.
"Can I play too?" Joey asked. "Hayd is trying to convince Arthur to try a grape and it's a pretty tense stand off. I could use a break."
"Okay, change of plans." Shane got up and dropped the crown on Joey's head and circumnavigated them. "I'm going to go rescue my nephew. I'll be back and we'll all have a tea party, except for Daddy, who can have a time out."
That distracted the girls immensely and there was a hot debate about who was allowed to give who time outs.
Shane had figured it was bad luck until hours later when Ilya came home, kissed Shane lavishly and asked with a glint in his eye, "Did you have a nice princess party? Lots of the wrong kind of jewelry?"
"It was really nice," Shane said, narrowing his eyes at him. "Did you eavesdrop on me and the girls?"
"I don't know this one 'eavesdrops'," Ilya lied flagrantly. "Jackie is a very beautiful, very smart woman. She has terrible taste in dresses. I had to FaceTime Svetlana for back up. Shower and bed?"
And Shane followed after him, unable to prove a thing and yet deadly certain he'd been defeated again.
Post-Game Analysis
"Okay, so in my business, we have a rule: don't work with kids or dogs," Rose said, her amusement filtering over the line.
"I thought they'd love it! They asked if they could do a whole wedding ceremony for us a few weeks before that and we only didn't do it because Amber woke up crying."
"They're unpredictable, hence the rule. Don't involve Anya either. She'll only find a way to trip you up."
Anya was currently trotting obediently on Shane's left as she'd been trained. It was hard to believe at this moment, but Shane knew her very well by now and given her propensity for mischief when it was least wanted, he was inclined to agree.
"Okay, good take away. No kids. No animals."
"The kids would've made it cute. Kind of playful. Do you want playful or like…serious? Cause you are playing a game to get there, but in the moment?"
"Serious," Shane said definitively. "We're not fooling around about that part. I have a speech and everything."
"Aw, Shane."
"Shuuut up," he groaned. "It's what you do. You say nice things about the other person."
"I mean that's what most people do, yeah. But you guys seem to get off on being mean to each other sometimes. Or not mean, but teasing pretty hard," she pointed out. "Is that what you want to do?"
"I think so," he stared down the road. "I mean we're both pretty good at saying nice things to each other now, but there's a lot of silence to make up for."
"So you haven't even made it to starting the speech yet?"
"I got close the other day."
Attempt Three
"You look tired," Ilya observed, having to shout a little to be heard over the music. "You don't have to stay."
"It's fine," Shane shouted a little back. "I'm okay, promise."
The beat in the club was pulsing and Shane could feel it vibrating his toenails off, but he'd inoculated himself to loud situations over the years. The lights were dimmed at least and he was comfortable enough at the small VIP table set aside for them. Watching Ilya dive into the dance floor and lose himself in the music was worth it.
Half the team was here, mostly the younger half. It was Haas' birthday or at least the weekend day off closest to it. Despite Ilya having an internal (and external, but only with himself somehow) argument about it, he had eventually erred on the side of showing up. His compromise was to not drink and to make Shane promise to get them out of there before things got to 'Coach Shouldn't Know' level.
How Shane was supposed to tell what that was did not get clarified. As of that moment, a lot of shots had been downed and Haas was clearly having a great time flailing around to the music surrounded by his friends.
While Ilya did seem to be vaguely monitoring that situation, he was also making it a point of not dancing with the group. He had found a bachelorette party happy to have some light flirtation with a guy not put off by all the dick-shaped accessories they had. Shane attempted to feel jealous about it, but it was hard to get too worked up when Ilya kept bounding back over to him every few minutes to check on him, steal sips of his soda and report in.
"Luca keeps taking out his phone. I think he is texting Yolen's friend with the bad hair."
"One of the bridesmaids bought the wrong dress and she is trying to figure out how to fix this without the bride finding out."
"I don't think I like this groom. The bride keeps saying she will get in sooo much trouble for doing this or that. She deserves better."
By the sixth round of that, Shane was starting to worry that Ilya might break up an incipient marriage. Probably for the right reasons, but it was a little heavy for a Friday night. Ilya was somehow getting all this information while dancing like a god. Shane toyed with going out on the floor with him and getting some of that energy thrown at himself directly. He couldn't bring himself to.
It was a little bit magic to simply watch Ilya like this. From a remove, being utterly himself in an aspect that Shane hadn't gotten to see before outside of a few social media posts. The liquid way Ilya moved, how easily he pulled people in and out of the vortex of his energy was beautiful. Especially when Shane knew that he'd only have to mouth 'Ready?' from across the club and Ilya would leave with him, casting all of it off.
Maybe that's why he sent Ilya back out, even when Shane was getting a little tired.
"Hollander," Haas said loudly as he crashed back into his seat next to Shane. "Are you having fun? I want everyone to have fun."
"I'm having fun," Shane said, taking a temperature check. Haas was definitely drunk, but not to a dangerous degree. He was sweaty and very flushed, but grinning. "I need to breathe for a few minutes. Young keeps scaring away people that want to touch me."
"Do you want him to stop?" Shane asked, turning his gaze back to the crowd. Young, Holmberg, Yolen and Dillion were starting to disperse through the crowd. Yolen was also heading back to the table though they had been waylaid by Young. Maybe already reaming him out. Hard to tell.
"No, not really. I don't need to hook up tonight, but it would be nice to get some room."
On the other side of the dance floor, Ilya was apparently teaching the bride how to drop down more effectively into a squat. That was distracting.
Beside him, Luca took out his phone.
"This is sad," Yolen announced, plucking the device straight out of Haas' hand. "You wanted us to come out tonight."
"And I'm having a good time," Luca protested, snatching it back. "I can't take a break?"
"You can," Yolen said. "But if you want to leave, that's also fine. You know that, right?"
It sounded a little familiar and Shane watched as the bride stumbled, grabbing onto Ilya's arm to steady herself. She said something and Ilya nodded, but also slipped out from her grip. With a fortifying sip of someone's abandoned drink (disgusting, Shane regretted it immediately), Shane got up and moved through the crowd. It parted reluctantly for him, but he reached his goal eventually.
"Shane!" Ilya said happily, reaching for him. "Barbara, this is Shane."
"Hi," she said. "Thanks for lending him to us!"
"You're welcome," Shane said, glancing at Ilya who only smiled at him, no answers forthcoming about how much these strangers knew. "But I have to take him back now, sorry. Birthday stuff."
"Very important birthday stuff," Ilya agreed. "Cake."
"I'm going to have a chocolate one," Barbara said earnestly, drunk as a skunk. "Brett wanted red forest, can you imagine?"
"Gross," Ilya said. A lie. Ilya's sentiment about cake was 'yes', regardless of flavor.
"You're so right. He IS gross," Barbara said.
"I've been trying to tell you that for years," another woman shouted a hair too loudly.
"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Barbara hissed.
"We need to go," Ilya said urgently, got a hand on Shane's back and got them back to the table in half the time it took Shane to get to him. "Fuck."
"Did you just end a marriage before it started?"
"No," Ilya snorted. "I started a fight. By accident! She is so-so on her groom, but you cannot insult the whole man. Maybe I can say a few things because I don't know him, but that was her sister."
"Oh, shit," Shane said. "Got it. Haas, happy birthday, we're leaving."
"Thank you!" Luca chimed, he was starting to list a little in his seat and Yolen caught him. "I want to be not here too."
"We're going," Yolen assured him.
"Yay!"
"Wasn't this his idea?" Shane asked, bemused.
"Yep." Yolen had their phone out. "He had fun. He's done. We're going. Not hard."
"Very easy," Ilya agreed. "Good night."
The air outside was bitingly cold, a relief from the oppressive heat of the club. Ilya was very sweaty, a few curls plastered to his forehead. He had instigated a bachelorette brawl, attended a birthday party for his first rookie as a coach, and played gossip fetch for Shane all night to keep him entertained. What a fucking menace.
Shane loved him so much it was a physical ailment sometimes.
"Stop," Ilya ordered. "We have to get home and if you keep looking at me like that, I will pull you into this alley."
"Please don't get us arrested for indecent exposure."
"Why would this be only my fault? You would not also indecently expose yourself?"
"No," Shane said without much conviction. "Come on. The car isn't far."
The drive home wasn't long. Shane took the wheel and as soon as they were underway, he reached over and took Ilya's hand in his. It was easier to drive like that in Ilya's car with its thinner center console. They did it in Shane's car too, but this was more comfortable. It may or may not be a factor when Shane got his next car. Who was to say?
Going from the garage to the house, Ilya peeled off his shirt. Anya trotted out to greeted them and he fussed over her for a moment before turning to Shane. "Hungry?"
And Shane was. It was that time of the season when he was always a little hungry. "I could eat."
So he got to watch Ilya putter around the kitchen pulling out late night snack options.
"Here," Ilya presented a plate with a little dipping bowl of peanut butter, cut up carrots and the last of the cherry tomatoes.
"Thank you. What are you having?"
Ilya gave him a long heated look. "I am waiting for mine. Eat."
"I can eat later," Shane said.
"Now," Ilya insisted. "You did not have much dinner and we have a long week ahead. I will let Anya out. She is excited that we're home."
So Shane set to eating. Or at least he did until Ilya went out the back door and then he went to retrieve the ring which had returned to his sock drawer. He did, out of sheer habit now, check Ilya's sock drawer and found the other box where it had been this morning.
Whatever counterattack Ilya was planning had yet to manifest itself, but Shane checked every morning anyway. He didn't have whatever sixth sense Ilya did for Shane's attempts, so he figured this was only fair.
The slight dip of disappointment when it remained as it had been since Shane first found it over the summer was only because he hadn't caught Ilya in the act yet. It'd be nice to get one up on him that way too.
Tonight wasn't entirely planned, but it felt right.
Shane considered putting on some music, but if he started it this late, Ilya would be suspicious. What would he play anyway? He polished off the last of the tomatoes, and crunched through a few of the carrots. Ilya came back in, then headed to the bathroom to wash off Anya's paws before bed.
Shane ate peanut butter on carrots, and let his mind wander. He lost track of the minutes and then his plate was empty and still no Ilya. Bemused, he washed the plate, retrieved the ring and put it back in his pocket.
The bedside lamps were on and Ilya, apparently distracted by something on his phone, stil standing in the middle of the bedroom.
"Luca posted pictures. The captions are a mess," Ilya said as Shane walked in. "But there is a nice one of us."
"Let me see?"
It was a good one. They were sitting together at the table before the real drinking got underway. Shane had his arm around the back of Ilya's chair, not actually touching since Ilya was leaning forward slightly. They were both smiling at something off to left. Nothing special, except they were both well-dressed and relaxed, not a frequent conjunction of activities.
"If you're saving it, send it to me."
"Mm, yes, of course." Ilya kissed his cheek.
"Hey, you were amazing tonight. I liked watching you dance."
"You like to watch me, Hollander?"
"Yes," Shane said, already starting down the words he'd picked out carefully. This led to them nicely. "I like a lot of things about you. I like how you hold yourself. Confident."
"You do this too, now. I like it too," Ilya said, turning towards Shane. "Very sexy."
"I like how you reach out to people," Shane said. "You make it look easy."
"You came with me tonight. It makes it easy."
And then somehow they were kissing and then naked and then…
Shane didn't fully realize he'd missed his window until they were sated and Ilya was sleepy beside him, nuzzling against his arm. He could probably sneak the question in, but it felt wrong to disturb the heavy coziness that settled around them sometimes after sex now. Like their intimacy was a blanket they'd pulled over each other.
"I love you," Shane said instead which was a part of the speech at least.
"I love you too," Ilya said around a yawn, his thumb rubbing circles over Shane's stomach. Then he was out, mouth still a little open.
It was hard to take that one as a loss. It felt a little like winning.
Post-Game Analysis
"So nowhere near a bed," Rose said solemnly. "Or a couch. Or anything he can bend you over. Or alone in general. Or in a crowd if there is a space that is even vaguely like privacy."
"I wasn't actually going to go into an alley with him."
"Shane, it's rude to lie right to my face."
"We're on the phone," he said limply.
"Mhm. I can't believe he cut you off with sex. I mean, I can, actually, but that's low."
"I don't think he did it on purpose," Shane sighed. "I was being sweet in the bedroom. That's what I would've thought was going on too. So yeah. I don't think I can do it at home unless there's people over."
"What about on the ice?"
The idea was deeply appealing for a lot of reasons. But it had a very obvious drawback. "That's exactly where he'll be the most suspicious."
"Because that's where he knows you'll want to do it most?"
"Maybe! I don't know. But…yeah. I think so. It's fine. I'll take him out to dinner or something. One of those places that's supposed to be romantic."
"I think you want to aim for a place that makes you feel romantic. Not 'supposed to'," Rose pointed out.
There was another dog coming, so Shane concentrated on pulling Anya in a little closer. She was good with other dogs, but he'd learned some of Ilya's wariness about other dogs being good with her. Today, they passed by without incident, Anya only tugging a little to try to greet a potential friend.
She was a very good dog. Shane had never wanted a pet, but he found himself gravitating toward her all the time now. Especially when Ilya wasn't home. Maybe he'd never babytalk her or let her lick his face as ardently as Ilya did, but Shane had, on a few occasions, buried his face in her belly and rested there for long minutes until his breathing smoothed out. He understood the creature comfort of it all now and why Ilya brought her everywhere he was allowed to.
"Shane?" Rose coaxed. "I can hear you breathing, I know you're alive."
"Sorry," he sighed. "I shouldn't be making you do this. It's ridiculous. I'm ridiculous."
"Are you kidding? I'm having a great time. Do you know how I spent today?"
"Being very talented and beautiful for money?"
"Yes," she said. Shane could hear her smiling and smiled back at nothing. "But six hours of that was in my trailer, waiting for my scene and I could barely move because of the prosthetics they glued to me. I had to eat lunch through a straw. This is the most exciting thing that's happened to me all day, don't stop."
"You're using me for entertainment," Shane determined.
"Yep."
"Offensive."
"Oh, so you want me to hang up and you can get Hayden to help you instead?"
"Hayden did successfully propose to someone."
"How'd he do it?"
"Jackie accidentally gave him a black eye while they were messing around playing soccer and when she sat in his lap to ice it, he said he realized that he wanted her there for the rest of his life and just asked."
"Wow," Rose said. "Did he have a ring?"
"No. Jackie wanted to pick out her own, so they went after. He told everyone at the store that she'd won his hand in combat," Shane said.
"And she still married him?" Rose asked in disbelief. "And had four kids with him?"
"They were both nineteen. And they did the long engagement thing. I mean, not that long, but you know."
"Okay, so you can ask your friend who thinks concussions are love languages, his wife who agrees with him, or me."
"I don't think she gave him a concussion. But it would explain a few things," Shane allowed. "They had a big normal wedding though. It was nice."
Idly, he wondered what you did for a third person in your marriage. He hadn't told Rose yet because it still seemed new and tentative over there, not his to spread around.
"Okay. So we've established that you should tell me more, I think."
"There's not much more to tell," Shane admitted. "I almost started a few more times, but it just never seems right. Or he's somehow not where I think he'll be. He's slippery."
"Slippery, "Rose repeated. "Honey, that man follows you around like your shadow might get lonely."
"He does not," Shane protested.
"He really does. It would drive me crazy, but you seem to like it."
If Shane said that he thought Ilya could stand to be a little closer to hand sometimes, he would sound nuts now. After a lifetime of always craving more time alone, Shane had discovered that what he really wanted was more time to be quiet with someone else. There was never an evening where he wanted Ilya to be further away on the couch or worse, gone altogether. Shane lived for the way Ilya touched him idly, little taps on Shane's wrist, their knees brushing together, Ilya's curls tickling his nose, or their socked feet pressed sole-to-sole.
They had been starved for each other for so long that even months later, they could not seem to fill the joint hunger for more. It made things that Shane would've found incredibly invasive from other people, a relief from Ilya. He liked when Ilya kissed the back of his neck while Shane brushed his teeth. He liked when Ilya held the trash bag as Shane cleaned out their cars of tiny bits of detritus. He liked when Ilya shoved himself under Shane's latest book like a disgruntled cat so that Shane would rest it on Ilya's ribs and use his other hand to play with his hair as he read.
"I do like it," he said quietly. "I want it for the rest of my life."
"Then let's get it done," Rose said, all teasing gone from her. "Let's go over it again. Some people you care about, both as an audience and to prevent it from turning to sex. During the day so no one is sleeping. Serious. Meaningful words. No kids or pets. Somewhere that means something to both of you, but won't tip him off. What else…music?"
"Don't do that to me," Shane grumbled. They had rounded the corner on their block down and Anya got even more pep in her step with home in sight. "But…I don't know. Between Fabian and Joey, I've gotten to like classical a little. Violin is romantic, right?"
"Definitely," she confirmed. "Violin music. Do you think he actually likes flowers or was that just the girls?"
"I'm not sure."
"Do you want flowers there? Or would it be distracting?"
"Distracting," he said immediately.
"Okay, so no flowers. Maybe you can give him some tiger lilies another time, see if he likes it then. Men should get flowers more."
They should? Shane could do that. He bet that even if Ilya didn't like them and chirped at him about it, he'd still find a vase and put them in water and fuss over them.
"Another time," Shane agreed.
"I think we can make a plan from that."
Pulling at the leash now, Anya let them up the driveway. "Let's pin the actually planning for next time. I'm in hearing range now. Don't want to give him ideas."
"Smart. We can text about it to. Please text me tomorrow. If I have another day like today, I might die of boredom."
"You got it. I'm gonna go, okay?"
"Okay, love you!"
"Love you too," he said. "Be good."
"No," she laughed. "Bye!"
"Bye."
The ritual of the end of the walk was satisfying. Shane liked taking off Anya's leash and hanging it up. The way she'd always shake herself from nose to tail and then wait patiently for a treat because Ilya had spoiled her. It was nice to please someone so easily. She was happy to get the things she expected and happier still to follow along in his wake afterwards.
When Shane got to the bedroom, idly thinking about shucking off his clothes and waking Ilya up that way, he found Ilya already awake. It must've only been in the last few minutes because he was still in bed, propped up against the headboard, sheets pooling around his waist. He was beautiful in the waning light.
"Hey," Shane said, "good nap?"
"Mm." Ilya held out a hand to him. "Very good. You brought the cold in with you."
"Yeah, I think it might snow. You know how the air gets that taste?"
"Yes, like it bites."
"Like that," Shane agreed and let Ilya tug him down to the bed.
"Who were you talking to? I heard your voice in the driveway."
"Rose. She's bored. Too much waiting around."
"Her life is very hard," Ilya said with an eye roll. "I am bored too. Talk to me instead."
"I already hung up on her," Shane pointed out. "Anyway, you talked to Sveta for a full hour this morning."
"It was very important." Ilya said with a grin, then leaned in to kiss Shane with slow promise. "If I do not help her plan her vacation, she might go somewhere terrible."
While Shane was mildly curious what kind of place Ilya would consider terrible, he was much more interested in taking advantage of the sleep warmed sheets. He'd text Rose tomorrow morning and they'd start a fresh plan.
Attempt Four
For the last time, Shane checked Ilya's sock drawer. The box was exactly where he'd last seen it. Good. That's as it should be. He stared at it for a few seconds longer. He hadn't brought himself to opening it. What kind of ring had Ilya picked for him? Would they use it as a wedding band instead?
It made Shane a little sad that he wouldn't know until they came home tonight. Until he asked, probably. Why hadn't Ilya even tried? As far as Shane knew, he'd never even taken it out of the drawer.
"Are you trying to cheat, Hollander?" Ilya's voice rolled through the room and Shane slammed the drawer closed guilty.
"Cheat at what?" He challenged, even as he felt the back of his neck go hot.
"You do not fool me." Stalking forward, Ilya capture Shane's jaw in his hand and kissed him. Steady fingers. A good day then, considering they'd already gone for a run and hit their home gym hard. "I need to move my hiding place, so you do not try to sabotage me."
"Fuck you, I don't need to cheat to get this done," Shane said, even as he melted in Ilya's weak grip.
"Is that so?" Ilya asked, low and full of promise. "You will play a clean game to get me?"
"Always," Shane gasped into his mouth. "We have to leave."
Ilya kissed him anyway, all tongue and teeth. "Too bad. You're not dressed yet."
His head full of cotton and want now, Shane could only say. "Can you get me a sweater?"
"Which one?"
"Dealer's choice."
Ilya beamed at that and pecked a last kiss on the corner of Shane's mouth before moving to Shane's dresser. He didn't have to search long, plucking out the soft blue sweater that Shane pretty much knew he'd pick. They were going to the practice rink and warmth would matter since Harris had said this was a casual video. No gear. Just the guys messing around on the ice out of uniform. 'Moving interviews' Harris had coined them.
"The idea," he'd said, all animation and bright eyes, "is to get you answering fan questions while you're in motion. It'll film really well and also marries together your on and off ice personas."
"In other words, we'll look hotter than usual because people can see our faces," Barrett had supplied, unbothered apparently, about his boyfriend exploiting him on the internet. "And people will watch with the volume off."
"Yes, that too," Harris had agreed merrily.
The blue sweater didn't strike Shane as particularly hot, but it made Ilya touch him even more than usual so that was good enough for Shane. Ilya, for his part, was in his usual black on black without much concern. He wouldn't be on camera today. A shame, really. Not that Shane wanted to exploit his boyfriend's looks on the internet exactly, but it would be nice to share the spotlight with him more often.
The Ottawa practice rink had quickly become one of Shane's favorite places after moving back home. It was far more accessible than the Metro's practice rink and no one cared if he came and went as long as he checked in at security. Once he and Ilya had started up again, Ilya would come with him for all his extra practices, usually leaving him to it.
It wasn't coach and player time, but something closer to a joint meditation session. Ilya streaking around, the sound of his skates a reassuring rhythm as Shane ran himself through warmups and drills that had been his constant companions since childhood. Working out together was good, but being on the ice together was still the best. Even if they rarely did anything like play hockey together, beyond a few stray moments when Ilya put his hands on a stick to show Shane something he was thinking about for another player.
Ilya could still send a shot into a goal with pinpoint accuracy as long as he didn't have to do it too many times in a row. It made Shane unbearably sad and horny all at once, so he tried not to think about it too often. He liked his lust to be playful and free these days, unmarred by shame and fear.
Today, they were not alone at the rink. Which was also fine. The grouping of them was small, most of the Centaurs already scattered to the winds for their three whole days off in a row. A last break before they shoved themselves through the second half of the season (and all the way to the cup, Shane was almost sure).
"Hey, Shane," Hayden greeted. "Ready to do some TikTok dances?"
"You first," Shane said with an eyeroll.
"I will teach you some if you want, Pike," Haas said, grinning. "Show our fans that you can keep up with the cool kids."
"Are you the cool kid in this scenario?" Yolen asked, elbowing Haas. "If so, I have bad news."
"I am cooler than you," Haas said loftily.
"No question," they agreed. "But that's a low bar."
"I think you're cool," Hayden said with far too much enthusiasm. How no one had guessed what was up with them yet baffled Shane.
Maybe Ilya was right. Maybe they could've walked around with their hands in each other's back pockets back then and convinced people it was a dare.
"Everyone knows Pike understands cool," Hayes said, pulling on gloves. He had a Batman-themed Christmas sweater, down to the batmobile having a red pompom nose on it. "When I think cool, I think Pike."
"This is sad," Bood whispered to Shane. "Like kittens trying to figure out who can roar the loudest."
Shane smothered a laugh and got out his skates. "At least I don't think I'm cool."
"And that's why you're cooler than all of them put together," Bood agreed.
"Please tell Ilya that," Shane said. "When you need him to be rushed the hospital from rupturing something from laughing too hard."
"Aw," Bood said with a grin, "he thinks you're cool in your own way, I bet."
"He absolutely does not."
When they managed to get themselves out to the rink, they found Harris already setting up a tripod for a camera. He had a handheld one for his phone already primed, but there was apparently some lighting issue over the bigger one that he was fussing over.
"Mind if I skate for a bit while we wait?" Shane asked him.
"Nah, go for it, just stay clear of the camera."
This was all going well enough. Once the shoot was over, Shane could offer to get lunch for everyone. A decent restaurant that the team favored in the area and didn't need reservations. They could have a nice time, there would be some music on in the background and Shane could ask Ilya in front of their friends, no kids or dogs or distracting beds. It'd be perfect. Or at least over. He was ready for it to be over.
Which was…sad. Disappointing. He had been having fun with it. But fun had to end some time.
It had been awhile since Shane had skated without all his gear on. It was almost unbalancing, but he got into the rhythm of it eventually. It was nice to feel the air on his face as he moved. No wonder Ilya liked to go fast like this. It must feel a little like speeding.
The man himself came over the boards and approached him with a smirk.
"Very slow, Hollander," Ilya said.
"Fuck you, it's for fun while we wait. I'm not trying to set records."
"You don't want to play 'Name that tune' with your team?" Ilya asked, gesturing behind him.
Apparently, Yolen had brought their violin. Shane hoped Harris wasn't going to try to make them play it while they skated, that seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. Everyone else was gathered around them as Yolen ran over a few notes before Haas yelled out, "Black Parade, you loser!"
"No points given if you insult me," Yolen scolded.
"I'm good," Shane said with a shake of his head. "They can do whatever that is without me for sure."
"Then we should get you moving for real," Ilya said, bumping his shoulder to Shane's. And just like that he took off, tearing across the rink.
It took Shane a second, but then he was off after him. Probably grinning like a manic. They did this too sometimes, race each other around, but it felt a little different today, both of them stripped down to their regular clothes and snatches of music starting and stopping around them. They dashed from end of the rink to the other, keeping a little distance from each other. A crash like this would be unpleasant.
Ilya was fast and maybe Shane was faster, but they were playing and that meant shit talking and distracting each other until who knew what was real. They dashed around and finally collided into the boards at one end, a few yards from Harris. He was setting up yet another light, the phone tripod hanging from his other hand.
The violin resolved into more than a few notes in a row and an absolutely godawful voice started singing along.
Imagine me and you, I do
I think about you day and night, it's only right
To think about the one you love and hold 'em tight
So happy together
"Hayden!" Shane yelled with a laugh, turning to find Hayden caterwauling. "You're going to blow someone's eardrums out."
Hayden flipped him off without stopping and to Shane's amused horror, the rest of the group joined in. It was not a melodious sound, except for Bood's pleasing baritone. Even Hayes who could usually carry a tune was far worse than usual.
I can't see me lovin' nobody but you
For all my life
When you're with me, baby, the skies'll be blue
For all my life
Then just as fast as it had started up, it stopped. All of them stopped singing abruptly as if by invisible cue. Joey kept playing, the song filling the rink plunged so suddenly into silence.
"Hey, Hollander!" Two voices yelled across the ice. "Turn around!"
Shane turned and there, near the front entrance, were Svetlana and Rose. He'd never seen them share space before and for a second, his brain couldn't quite resolve them into the same image. Rose wasn't even supposed to be on the continent. She'd been filming in Italy, Shane was positive. Svetlana wasn't due for a visit for weeks.
"What are you doing here?" he called out.
Then Shane almost fell flat on his face. Just standing on the ice.
Because something had pulled hard at his skate.
Bewildered, Shane looked down. He found Ilya on his knees, one of his fingers under the knot of Shane's left skate's laces.
No. Not on his knees. On one knee.
Ilya on one knee with the sweetest blue eyes ever gifted to a human being, and his best crooked smile met Shane's dumbfounded gaze.
"Holy shit," Shane breathed out. He couldn't run even he wanted to. Moving now could hurt Ilya which he would never risk.
Shane didn't want to move.
"'Shane Hollander'," Ilya said, voice low and steady. "These two words were in my mind every day for so many years. I don't know when they came into my heart too, but once they were there, I could not erase them. I don't want to erase them."
Shane stared down at him helplessly, wordlessly. He hoped his eyes were telling Ilya everything he needed to know. Maybe they were because Ilya went on.
"You are the best person I know. You're so smart, funny, kind, and so fucking good. It doesn't seem fair that I get to have so much of you, but I'm greedy and I want more. I want forever. Will you marry me?"
The ring was in Ilya's shaking right hand, held in his palm so it wouldn't fall.
Shane had dropped to his knees for Ilya many times. He cherished all of them, but this one had to be the best. Ilya put his hands around his waist so they wouldn't immediately slide away from each other. Shane bit the fingertip of the glove on his right hand so he could pull it off without letting go of Ilya with his left. He spit the glove onto the ice. He cupped Ilya's cheek with his naked palm and fingers, thumbing over the mole he had kissed so many times.
Shane made sure to meet Ilya's eyes.
"Yes," he said. "And ditto, basically."
"Ditto," Ilya repeated, all seriousness leaving him at once, eyes dancing. "You are fucking kidding me."
"It was better than what I was going to say so I'm stealing it," Shane said. "I love you. I want to marry you. Kiss me about it already."
And Ilya did. The violin cut off and cheering took its place. Ilya grabbed for Shane's hand, parting from the kiss to slid the ring onto his finger. It took two attempts, but they got there. The band was gold, inlaid with a circle of some brilliant blue gem. Sapphires, Shane would learn later. He went back to kissing his fiance. That was much more interesting.
They were locked together for only a few more seconds before friendly, over-effusive hands were tugging them up. Refusing to be parted, they were hugged as a duo, the pile up more like a cup win than an engagement in its rough joy. It was only when the Cens subsided that Rose and Svetlana skated up, already arm-in-arm which was concerning in a dim way.
"Congratulations, beautiful man," Svetlana said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "You like your ring?"
"Your doing?" he guessed.
"He did most of it. I helped," she said with a wink. "I suggested the fake box."
Fake box.
"You set up a decoy?" Shane demanded of Ilya, who had been getting a similar greeting from Rose.
"I knew you would cheat," Ilya said, unrepentant.
"Where did you have it?"
"Oh no,moyo solnyshko, I'm not giving up all my secrets yet." The wink was uncalled for.
Shane turned to Rose, who hugged him and he was forced to hug back because he was very happy she was there.
"You're the worst. I can't believe you pumped me for information and fed it to the enemy," he said in her ear.
"It was for your own good. I wanted you to get engaged before you grew old and died. Also, I sort of agreed with him. It was his turn."
"It was not," Shane said, but he couldn't find any real fight in him. "Thank you."
She squeezed him extra hard then released him. "You're welcome."
"Congrats, guys!" Harris said. He had his phone in his hand. "I'll send you both the video then delete my copy."
"Thank you," Ilya said, pulling Harris in for a hug. "This was perfect."
"My pleasure," Harris said with a soft smile for him. "Too bad we can't use it for your hard launch. That'd be pretty epic."
Shane grabbed Ilya's hand again. A hard launch. They'd talked about a dozen ways of doing it. Shane's ideas were 'boring' according to Ilya and Ilya's ideas were 'borderline insane' according to Shane. No, he didn't think it was a good idea for them to make out on center ice after a game to show 'Hunter how it's really done' or 'release a sex tape to show everyone how it's really done' even if would be 'very tasteful, Hollander!'.
"How much of the audio did you pick up?" Shane asked roughly.
"Oh, uh, none, I think. Ilya said that was for you guys," Harris said, startled. "It'd be cute to put the song under it. Have you racing around then the moment with the question. I could edit it a little before I send it. Give you the rough cut and the edit. Whatever you want. I don't mind."
Ilya squeezed Shane's hand. Their eyes met. Ilya tilted his head a few degrees. Shane nodded. They both grinned.
"Harris," Ilya said slowly. "Edit it like this with music and nice filter. Then post it. Official Centaurs' feed if you are allowed."
"I'm Head of Communications," Harris said, "Who's going to stop me?"
"Oh my fucking god," Rose said. "Is it happening?"
"What's happening?" Hayden asked and Shane started a little. He hadn't realized Hayden was still at his elbow. "Are we doing this?"
"What 'we', Pike?" Ilya asked, disgruntled.
"I feel like we all helped this moment along," Hayden said. "And obviously we're all going to comment immediately and repost and all of that. Jacks! It's happening!"
"It is?" She called back.
Wait. "Jackie is here?" Shane asked.
"Oh yeah, and the kids, but Rose said that they might be a distraction which like, fair." Hayden shrugged. "So we kept them back, but it's cool now, right?"
"Is anyone else hiding back there?" Shane demanded.
"Your parents," Ilya said.
"My parents," Shane repeated. "Ilyusha, how did you do all this?"
"Planning," Ilya said with delight and kissed him again.
Everyone that Shane considered family was under one roof. He had a ring on his finger. They were going to hard launch themselves with an engagement video.
And all he could do to express himself about all of that was kiss Ilya like his life depended on it.
He'd certainly lost today, but they were almost married now. Shane was fairly sure that made Ilya's wins half his anyway.
Attempt Five
"Fucking asshole!" Ilya's voice carried from the garage into the living room. "Shane, be careful when you leave later, there's a very stupid journalist standing outside our gate. I almost hit him with my car."
"On purpose?" Shane called back.
"No! But I should have!"
Harris had gotten the video up two days after their engagement which had made Shane very anxious, but now he was grateful they'd gotten to celebrate in peace first. They had actually gone out to lunch with everyone and enjoyed their time with all of their people. Then they'd locked themselves up in the house and had the kind of twenty-four hour sexcation that was both ill-advised and absolutely required.
The video had gone up, they'd gone back to work and the press had descended like ravenous beasts of prey in all shapes and sizes. For three days it had been unrelenting, the kind of attention Shane had feared the most and rarely got outside of the rink. The initial intensity was easing now, the starving pack mostly shuffled on to the next story, but the scavengers had arrived now to pick the last meat off the bone. Mostly photographers, trying to catch them at something that wasn't simply walking Anya and holding hands. Best of luck to them.
They'd taken to going out alone when they would normally go together. This morning, it was for breakfast. Not that Shane needed anything, but Ilya's intense cravings for a breakfast burrito had driven him from their bed. Which was perfect, really.
Shane pressed play and Fabian's music, turned low, swept through their living room. He'd briefly considered a suit then laughed at himself and put on workout gear. It was still morning and there was no pressure now. He could be comfortable. Ilya liked him comfortable.
"Good morning again," Ilya said, finally stepping into the house and shutting the door behind him. "Let me eat and then I will spot you if you want- what is this? What are we doing?"
"Good morning again too," Shane said, and held up the bouquet of tiger lilies. It was spotted through with other flowers too: bright yellow daises and orange mums. A firework wrapped in a little brown paper and cellophane.
"Why do you have those? Did I forget your mother's birthday? April, yes? "
"Come here," Shane said, "these are for you."
"For me?" Ilya came closer. He was in an old hoodie and basketball shorts even though it was freezing outside. Even though Shane had told him to put pants on before he left.
"Yes. The girls said you liked the tiger lilies," Shane said. "If you hate them, I won't do it again, but I thought it was nice."
Bemused, Ilya took the bouquet from him. He studied the bright blooms. "I do like them."
"They make me think of you."
"How?" Ilya laughed. "Because I am delicate flower?"
"They aren't that delicate. Flowers are beautiful to survive," Shane said. "So that animals will notice them, you know? No one survives and looks beautiful doing it like you. And you smell good to me all the time, even when you're disgusting. And your smile is like them too. Bright. So. Yeah. They remind me of you."
"Shane," Ilya said, his voice already a little rough. "What are you doing?"
"I have a ring for you too," Shane said. "And I guess I don't have to ask, but that doesn't mean you don't get to hear how much I love you. And how much I want you too."
It felt right. Shane had decided he'd only do it if it felt right and it did. So he dropped to one knee and held up the ring. "Marry me, Ilyusha? Please?"
"So polite," Ilya said, but now he was definitely choked with tears. "Yes. Obviously. Ditto."
"Ditto," Shane grinned at him and slid the ring onto his finger.
He was glad he'd gotten it resized now, even though Rose suggesting he measure by using his own ring on Ilya had made him nervous he'd give away the game. Instead, Ilya had thought it was cute when Shane eased it on him 'just to see'. They were the same size. Of course they were.
For Ilya, Shane had found a gold and black band. His cross and his clothes forever matched on his finger. The symmetry of it pleased Shane greatly and he'd explain it to Ilya eventually, but for now, he turned over Ilya's hand and kissed his palm.
"Let's get matching wedding bands," he suggested. "One thing that matches, one that doesn't."
"That will be a lot of ring for one finger," Ilya said, his nose clearly clogging up. Shane stood again, so he could wipe Ilya's tears away with his thumb.
"I think we can wear these on our left then the wedding rings on the right like in Russia. Or just wear one on whatever hand on whatever day-"
The words were licked out of his mouth.
They could figure it out later. Shane got back down on his knees. He'd find flower petals in his hair later, picking them out with a grin that couldn't be wiped away. The flowers would live on the kitchen counter in their spare water pitcher. Every morning while they still bloomed, Ilya would stare at them blearily over his mug of tea as if the very sight of them woke him up.
Quietly, Shane would order a plain cylinder glass vase. Whenever the flowers started to fade, he would get fresh ones as long as they were home, cycling through every variation, finding the ones Ilya liked best. The ones he touched and smiled at, almost as much as he touched and smiled at Shane himself.